4+skinny+trees+writing

It is the only plant who admires me and understands me in a different way. Not the tallest and pretty skinny, the rose bush is just like me, not only on the outside but inside as well.We both have things in common just like are attitude. In the open when it should be covered. One prickly plant all alone in the sun. In the window i sit watching the plant freeze in the winter all alone. the only time i actually care. It is in full bloom, talking to nobody. Thinking it is like a king and the rest of the world are its servants. It has prickly thorns growing on the vines poking anyone that comes by. The thorns poke critters that go scavenging in the bush. This is how it goes in its world. If it were not there it would be bare not happy and joyful.Sitting all alone sowing only its roots to the worms and the dirt. GO, go, go when i go to bed. They come to life and throw parties all night. When i am to board i look at the plant and it shows me hope against definite. Now only the light shows the street. Not one person or plant moving in the night. One with to much. One who tries to be above everyone else. One who is all alone without a friend in the dark and through the year.